A Second Chance
by Sarah3
Summary: A Titanic 'Jack Lives' type fic. Jack survives, but will he find Rose again?
1. Chapter One

Chapter One Title: A Second Chance   
Rating: G   
Disclaimer: I admit it, I don't own them! They belong to James' C and always will :-)   
Summary: A Titanic 'Jack lives' type fic. You know the deal!   
Warnings: None.   
Feedback: Always appreciated!   
Fandom: Titanic   
Genre: General/Drama/Jack lives!   
Author's Note: This was my first ever fic, and it's a story I first started close to two years ago. I've decided to put it up here because my Titanic site is down and I'd hate to cause people to miss out on the dubious pleasure of reading it! Plus, I'd like some feedback! 

**Chapter One**

"Water that cold, like right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives, stabbing you all over your body'

The oddly familiar voice cut through the fog of sleep and Rose's eyes flew open, her heart racing wildly. She had no idea where she was, yet strange, confused memories danced at the corners of her mind. Images she didn't understand-frightening memories of cold, darkness and terrible cries for help. Rose looked down and realised her hands were shaking and she pulled the blankets closer for comfort, noticing with a start the unfamiliar clothing and the bruises and scratches on her arms. What had happened? What was she doing here? She glanced around the unfamiliar room, and felt a pang of fear, curiously accompanied by an inexplicable sense of sadness.

Rose shook her head, trying to clear her mind. A name sprung to her lips, almost involuntarily "Jack?" she whispered, questioningly. Suddenly, she heard her own voice ringing in her ears... "I trust you." And suddenly it all came back to her. Jack... 

The water had been so cold colder than she had ever imagined possible. The darkness was filled with the terrifying sounds of people locked in a terrible struggle for survival. But most of all, what came flooding back in painful clarity was the memory of her useless efforts to hold onto Jack's hand and of the terrible moment when she realised that she could not see him in the seething water.

Suddenly, Rose could cope no longer. Almost without realising, a scream escaped from her lips as the horrors of the night came flooding back.

The door flew open with a bang, and a concerned, yet kindly face peered around. In her mid forties, with a solid build and round face reddened by sun and wind, Alice Barnett was just the kind of comforting presence that Rose needed. Yet right now her face was filled with concern.

"What's the matter, dearie?" she asked kindly, approaching the bed. Rose drew back as she approached, her confusion growing. She seemed trapped in the most awful nightmare; full of people and memories she couldn't comprehend. The ship.. Jack... something awful had happened... something she remembered only in terrifying snatches.

Alice noticed Rose's hands shaking, and smiled warmly at her. "Do you know where you are, lovey?"

Wincing at her over familiarity, Rose couldn't help but wonder what her mother would think of this woman. Coarse, vulgar, ill bred. Rose could hear Ruth's words ringing in her ears. Her mother where was she? The confusion filled Rose's mind again, and she grabbed the blankets for support. Then, as her head cleared, she realised that this woman had asked her a question.

Where was she? That was a good question indeed although to Rose's feverish mind it sounded like a line from a novel she might have read as a young girl. Looking up at the friendly face before her, Rose decided that she had to trust this woman, at least for the time being.

'I'm Alice Barnett, nurse onboard Carpathia' she replied cheerfully. "It's April 17 although I don't suppose you remember much of the past few days' she continued, barely masked her concern.

Rose looked up at her, bewildered. "I...' she began hesitantly. Then, finding strength, she realised she had to know the truth. Looking Alice in the eye, she continued in a clear voice. "There was a man named Jack Dawson on board.,," she trailed of, realising that Alice had heard countless of these queries over the past two days. 

Alice's eyes grew sadder, and she squeezed Rose's hand comfortingly. "I'll do my best" she replied.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Title: A Second Chance  
Author: Sarah ([sfrench@eisa.net.au][1])  
Part:2/?  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Titanic isn't mine, never was, never will be! I'm only borrowing, I promise *g*   
Archive: Anyone who wants it. :-) I'll be putting it on my site and Fanfiction.net.  
Fandom: Titanic  
Feedback: Pretty please! :-)  
Summary: A _Titanic_ Jack-lives kind of thing. Need I say more :-)

**_Chapter 2_**

Jack's eyes slowly flickered open. The dawn was creeping over the decks, bringing with it the promise of a fresh, new day. But Jack's heart was not filled with the hope that this should bring. Instead, he felt nothing but desolation.

He stretched slowly. The bare boards that he lay on were uncomfortable, but he was reluctant to move. Last night, they had seemed as good a place as any to spend the night, and now that morning had arrived, he realised that at least the physical discomfort focused his mind, preventing his despair from becoming utterly overwhelming.

Around him, others were beginning to stir, but Jack remained locked in his private reverie. His mind constantly replayed the events of that night, searching for a new angle, continually highlighting what he should have done differently, would have done differently had fate seen fit to offer him a second chance. Jack shuddered, wondering how long this would last- the guilt, the pain, the horrible sense of hopelessness. Everything around him seemed so futile, so empty- how was he to endure a lifetime of this?

Dangerously, an unexpected sob rose in Jack's throat, and he stifled it quickly. He knew he couldn't allow himself to break down completely. The anguish and self incrimination were bad enough. Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind; Rose, on the deck of the _Titanic_- "When the ship docks, I'm getting off with you." He could still feel an echo of the joy that filled his heart as she said those words, and remembered with a jolt thatit had only been four days ago. He felt as though he had been living with this pain for eternity.

It was entirely his fault, he knew that with certainty. Jack laughed humourlessly at the tragic irony his life had become. He had assured Rose that he could offer her freedom, a new life, yet what had become of that promise? And here he was, he who had preached about living life to the fullest, unable to even muster the will to climb from his makeshift bed.

The sheer stupidity of his actions that night suddenly washed over him. What had he been thinking? He ought to have insisted that Rose stay aboard that lifeboat. Her selfless refusal to leave him had touched his heart and blurred all comprehension of the danger they were facing. Even afterwards, there had been chances that he had let slip away. If he had just held her hand a little tighter as they plunged beneath the water, if he had only looked a little harder once they reached the surface. The useless wishes swirled around in Jack's head.

Slowly, wearily, he climbed out of bed. He could barely summon the energy to do so, but a lifetime of habit told him he must. Surprisingly, he found he was hungry. To Jack's confused mind, it seemed almost obscene that such mundane details of ordinary life should continue while Jack's entire sense of being had been shattered over the past few days. Jack stumbled towards the third class dining room, his head bent, lost in deep reflection.

Standing alone at the doorway to the dining room, Alice was an incongruous site. In the midst of this sea of misery, she exuded confidence and determination., the brilliantly red bodice of her gown contrasting sharply with the washed out tones of the steerage passenger's clothing.

Yet, in her heart, Alice felt herself contaminated with the same sense of despair. She desperately longed to help Miss Rose, having seen first hand the haunted look in her patient's eyes. Yet she knew that this search, like so many others that had taken place on these decks, was destined to end in heartbreak.

Taking a minute to collect her courage, Alice walked boldly down the stairs. She was greeted warmly, for she had cared for many of these passengers. Yet her enquires about a Jack Dawson were met with nothing but blank faces.

Sighing heavily, she was about to give up, preparing yet again to deliver sad news to a patient who had hoped against all reason. Suddenly, she noticed a young man standing alone in the corner of the room. His shaggy blond hair fell in his eyes which bore the same anguished expression as Miss Rose's had.

Alice's generous heart ached for him, and for whatever terrible sadness he must be enduring. She hated to interrupt what were clearly private thoughts, but her loyalty lay with Rose.

She approached him, cautiously. "Excuse me, Sir" she began, hesitantly. His head snapped up in shock; he had been so lost in is despair that he had not heard her approach. "Please," he said, his voice cracking "Whatever it is, just leave me alone right now."

"Please, Sir" Alice tried again. "I'm looking for a passenger aboard this ship.." Jack's face hardened. "Well, I'm afraid I shall be of no use then" he replied with an angry flash in his eyes. "I am travelling alone."

   [1]: mailto:sfrench@eisa.net.au



	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

** Chapter 3**

Jack watched ruefully as Alice retreated. Why had he reacted so harshly? He knew that such an unfriendly response wasn't like him, and he felt a moment's anguish at the person he was becoming. He couldn't explain it, couldn't remember any other time when he'd felt so bitter and alone. Even after his parents' deaths he had still felt that the world had something to offer him; it was just a matter of finding it. Now it seemed that his future stretched ahead of him, endless years of... what? Emptiness? Loneliness? No wonder he felt bitter.

Briefly, Jack wondered about the man Alice had been searching for. Who was he? Whoever he was, Jack envied him. How wonderful it would be to have someone who was so anxious about your well being that they were searching for you. A wave of longing swept over him. He and Rose could have had that, and so much more, yet it had been cruelly swept away. Sadly, Jack realised that although he had just survived disaster, there wasn't a sole person in the world anxiously awaiting news of his fate.

Jack stared at the untouched food before him without actually seeing it, and unenthusiastically pushed it with a fork. Vaguely, he realised that the ship would dock in New York the next day. He supposed that he would have to come up with some plans- somewhere to go, something to do. The only plan he could think of was to return home to Chippewa Falls. What did it matter anyway, he wondered despondently.

Alice sat down heavily outside Rose's room, trying to postpone her bad news a little longer. Alice knew that her patient was still weak, and she worried about the effect the shattering truth would have upon her. Alice had seen the hope in her eyes earlier that day, and it concerned her now. Rose had seized the slim chance that Jack might have survived and clung onto it, building it up in her mind into something bigger. Alice worried about how she would cope now that her last desperate prayer had been extinguished.

For surely there could be no hope left? Alice had searched every corner of the ship, hunting in the least unlikely places, and nobody had heard of a Jack Dawson, much less seen him aboard Carpathia. She wondered briefly about the young man she had met a few minutes previously on the lower decks. But she firmly put that idea out of her head. If Jack were alive, surely he too would be searching anxiously for Rose. He would never have brushed her away if he was the man she was looking for. Alice knew that she must not share that fleeting thought with Rose. The worst thing she could do right now was to put fanciful thoughts into her head. Painful as it was, Rose needed to accept the truth.

Lost in these thoughts, Alice suddenly felt a presence beside her. Startled at having her privacy interrupted, Alice glanced towards the woman. She was handsome in the way that very wealthy people often are. Her hair was well cut, a rich red colour and turned up stylishly, and her dress bespoke of money and a lifetime devoted to elegance. However, when Alice looked more closely, she noticed that her clothing was torn and creased, and her face tear streaked. Alice judged her to be about 40, although it was difficult to tell as her face was creased and aged, the face of a person who has endured many sorrows and become hardened to life.

Turning towards her, Alice gently touched her arm. "Excuse me, Ma'am, but are you... alright?" Alice hesitated; her words seemed inconsequential in the face of what was obviously an enormous grief. 

The woman's sobs only intensified, and Alice fervently wished that she had never got involved. She had seen enough sadness recently. "Can you tell me your name?" Alice asked reluctantly, anxious to help but unsure how to go about doing so. Although she felt uncomfortable, it wasn't in her caring nature to desert someone who was so obviously distressed. 

The woman's sobs slowed a little as she whispered "My name is Ruth Dewitt Bukater."


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Title: A Second Chance  
Author: Sarah (sfrench@austarmetro.com.au)  
Part: 4/?  
Rating: PG   
Summary: Titanic 'Jack-lives' type fic.  
Author's notes: This is a story I wrote about two years ago, I've decided to pop it up here on ff.net but I don't think it's terribly good :-) Sorry about the lack of updates, I kind of forgot to add any more chapters. *g*

Chapter Four 

Alice looked at her, stunned. Rose had made it clear that she had no family aboard, yet surely this could couldn't be a coincidence. However, Alice kept her thoughts to herself. Gently, she asked "You lost somebody aboard Titanic?"

Ruth's sobs had ceased now, yet tears continued to trace silent tracks down her face. Suddenly, she looked very like Rose and Alice became even more certain that her suspicions were correct.

Ruth nodded slowly. "My daughter, Rose.." she replied in a trembling voice, taking a deep breath. She seemed lost in a world of her own. "She was so stubborn," Ruth murmured "chasing after that steerage boy... I knew it would end in heartbreak. If only she had realised that I only wanted what was best for her..." Ruth's voice trailed off, and she suddenly seemed to remember that Alice was there. Looking directly at her, a strange expression filled her eyes. "And it would have been for the best" Ruth continued fiercely, as if trying to convince herself more than Alice. "If Rose had only listened to what I had told her then..." Ruth's eyes filled with tears again as she whispered, "then she'd still be here now."

Alice had very little idea what Ruth was talking about, but she was sure of one thing. The Rose this woman spoke of and her young patient were indeed one and the same. Suddenly, Alice was filled with joy. For the first time in almost a week, she might be able to bring a little happiness out of this misery.

"Mrs Dewitt Bukater" she said warmly, unable to disguise her joy, "I think I may be able to help you." Ruth looked up at her, the slightest glimmer of hope in her eyes. Alice was filled with uncertainty again. What if she were wrong? Ruth would be devastated. And then.... Rose had never mentioned her mother. Perhaps there was animosity beneath the surface? But, gazing at Ruth's tear streaked face, Alice realised that, whatever had happened, this woman deserved the truth.

Turning to Ruth, Alice said steadily "Mrs Dewitt Bukater, I think your daughter may still be alive." 

In the stunned silence that followed, Alice watched Ruth's face intently for a reaction and saw none. Faltering a little she continued, "You see... I'm a nurse... one of my patients....her name is Rose Dewitt Bukater, and I thought...."

Ruth's eyes widened in amazement. Rose was alive? But how? And then a more troubling thought occurred to her. Why had Rose not sought her out? She hadn't even felt the need to let her own mother know that she was still alive. Ruth's joy dissipated. Surely she wasn't still pining after that steerage boy.. chasing whatever foolish dreams he had filled her head with instead of returning to her family where she belonged? If that was the case, Ruth vowed that she wouldn't allow it to last. In a voice that came out harsher than she'd intended, she asked "May I see her?"

Alice was startled by her tone, and sensed the first stirring of trouble. Perhaps she had chosen the wrong path after all. She struggled to regain her composure. "Of course, Mrs Dewitt Bukater. But allow me to speak to her first. She has not been well, and I don't wish to startle her."

Alice hesitantly pushed Rose's door open. The room was dark, and at first Alice thought that Rose was asleep, she lay so still. But as Alice's shadow filled the doorway, Rose sat up. Even in the dim light, Alice could see that she'd been crying. Expectation filled Rose's eyes as she gazed at Alice, begging for an answer to the unspoken question. Alice found herself unable to speak. No matter how many times she had to share sad news, she still found it impossible. However, this time she was spared a little of the agony. In a voice barely above a whisper, Rose spoke fatalistically. "You didn't find him, did you?"

Alice shook her head slowly, wishing that the news could have been otherwise. Rose just sat there, studying the bedspread with fierce concentration. Suddenly her composure broke as the truth she'd been dreading sank in.

Rose didn't notice Alice's attempts to comfort her. Her every memory of Jack came flooding back, every one so full of life. She could still feel the warmth of his hands, see the joy that lit up his face when he smiled, hear his laughter as he had spun her around at the party, faster and faster, the two of them lost in their own impenetrable world. The tears rolled down her cheeks. His presence was so real to her- how was it possible that he was dead, that all this existed only in her memory? She closed her eyes, and remembered his face as she'd walked towards him at the bow, the sun lighting his hair and a warm smile crossing his face, his eyes filled with joy, with love. Her sobs increased as Alice tried helplessly to comfort her.

Through her tears, it dawned on Rose that she was all alone. Besides Alice she had no one in the world to turn to and the thought filled her with dread. She had never been alone before.. never even chosen her own clothes in the morning. She had abandoned everything that had been familiar and safe to be with Jack, and although she didn't regret her choice, the world suddenly seemed even more lonely and frightening.

Through her tears, Rose made a watery attempt to smile at Alice, trying to reassure her that she was coping. "Thank goodness for you, Alice," she said in a trembling voice. "If you weren't here, I can't imagine what I'd do. I have no one else to turn to now that Jack-" Rose broke off abruptly, not trusting herself to speak the truth aloud, biting her lip in a futile effort to hold back her tears.

Alice could not return Rose's weak smile. Instead, she stared down at her hands, aware that what she was about to say was momentous. Finally, her voice broke the uncertain silence. "Rose," she began slowly "There is something else." She sighed, "I am unsure if I am doing the right thing in telling you, but you are not as alone as you imagine." And very quickly, before she could change her mind, Alice burst out "Your mother wishes to speak to you."

Rose snapped her head up in shock. Her mother? How was this possible? Before she could speak Alice continued. "She's waiting outside. I'll fetch her now if you wish." The shock overwhelmed Rose. First Jack and now this. Before she had a chance to protest, Alice was walking towards the door.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five Chapter Five 

Rose looked down at her hands as Ruth stepped hesitantly through the door. How could this be happening? The last person in the world that she wanted to see was her mother. And yet... it was oddly comforting to see a familiar face. Rose shuddered and hated herself for the thought. How could anything be comforting when Jack was dead? When the only comfort she really wanted was for Jack to hold her again.

"Hello, Rose," Ruth said quietly, her voice composed. Rose briefly remembered the hysteria the last time they had met; when Rose had refused to board the lifeboat. It seemed that little of that remained now.

Rose could not reply. So much had passed between them, these polite formalities seemed absurd. Rose almost wanted to laugh as she watched Ruth fumble about in her head for exactly the right words for the circumstances. As though those words existed, Rose thought bitterly. As if this was in any way comparable with one of Ruth's parties, or an interview with Rose's teacher- situations where words mattered, where they had the power to change anything. No matter what eventually escaped from Ruth's lips, the inalterable facts would remain. Jack was dead. And Rose knew that while she would never admit it, Ruth was relieved. Nothing could change this, least of all the phrases that Ruth searched frantically for. 

When she eventually did speak, Ruth's voice faltered in response to Rose's stony silence. "I... I didn't realise that you.... I have been looking for you..." She trailed off.

"Why, Mother?" Rose suddenly spoke sharply. Ruth was taken aback at the harshness of her question. "Why have you come here. What do you want? After everything that has happened, what on earth do you possibly think you can offer?"

The hurt was visible on Ruth's face. "Rose, I had hoped... that perhaps you could return home... that perhaps we could try to make some kind of life for ourselves." The slightest trace of bitterness crept into her voice. "It's not as though either of us have any one else to turn to."

Rose glared coldly at Ruth. "I did have someone, Mother, and you did everything you could to destroy that. Why should I trust you? Why should you want my happiness now if you couldn't accept it while Jack was alive? He's dead, Mother. You got your way- what more do you want? Why can't you leave me be? You can never share my grief, never understand...." Her voice broke, and she turned stonily to the wall, refusing to face Ruth and allow her to see her tears.

There was a sob in Ruth's voice that Rose had never heard before. "Please, Rose" she whispered. "You're my daughter. You are all I have left and I have to at least try. How could you believe that I don't understand how you feel, when I have done nothing but mourn your father these past two years?" As Ruth spoke, it occurred to Rose that for the first time in her life, Ruth was speaking to her as an equal. "Rose" she continued, a pleading tone in her voice. " I made terrible mistakes in the past weeks... I know that. But please don't leave me alone."

Rose's thoughts swirled in her head, confusion threatening to overwhelm her. Again, she felt the sense of isolation that had scared her so much earlier. Why did these thoughts have to come into her head now, weakening her resolve. It would be so easy just to return home... and listening to her mother's pleading voice suddenly made Rose feel very tired. Maybe the idea was worth considering .... what else was she to do, after all. A nagging voice filled her head, reminding her that Jack had seen that she was trapped as long as she remained with her family. But was it any better to be trapped by loneliness, by poverty? It had seemed so important to escape, to be free, but those dreams had held meaning only while Jack was to be by her side. Now... well, everything was different. Jack was dead. What use was freedom when you were alone and merely struggling through the world? She and Jack had dreamed of heading for the horizon; now Rose doubted that the horizon held anything more than further heartbreak. 

In her deepest heart, Rose knew she was giving in, taking the easy way out. But right now she felt too battered by fate to turn her back on security. "I'm sorry, Jack" she whispered to herself. "I know this isn't what we planned. But everything's different now." And looking at her mother, Rose replied steadily, "All right, Mother. I'll come home."

The Next Day 

As Carpathia steamed into New York, Rose stood alone on the decks, watching the Statue of Liberty approaching.As hard as she tried to stop it, she imagined a dozen happier versions of this moment, scenarios that might have been reality had fate offered her a second chance. Dreamily, she imagined Jack standing by her, his face flushed with the excitement of the moment; their future lying ahead of them, full of promise. So real was the fantasy that Rose could almost hear his voice, and didn't feel the freezing wind as she imagined his warm arms holding her tightly.

A young man, almost a boy, approached her nervously as she stood daydreaming. Rose jumped, reluctantly leaving her fantasy. "Excuse me" he spoke softly. "Can I take your name, please, love." Rose looked at him absentmindedly, still lost in her private world. "Dawson," she replied vaguely. "Rose Dawson." 

Rose was still standing there when Ruth approached her, annoyed to see her daughter dreaming again. What was she thinking about? Ruth hoped she wasn't still wasting her thoughts on that steerage boy, that... Jack, or whatever his name had been. While Ruth would not wish his fate on anyone, she couldn't help feeling relieved that he was out of her daughter's life, by whatever means. The shame burned in Ruth as that dark thought came to life, and while she acknowledged the truth of her feelings, she knew she could never share that thought with anyone.

"Rose, come along." Ruth spoke sharply. "We're about to dock, and we want to get of the ship as quickly as possible. There'll be newspaper men everywhere. If we get caught in the crush it could take hours." Ruth shuddered at the thought. Rose glanced at her vaguely, wondering what the fuss was about. "What difference does it make, Mother" she replied bitterly. "Where on earth have we to go that is so important?"

"Why, we must get to the hotel!" Ruth cried. "Cal wishes to set out for Philadelphia tonight!" Suddenly, Ruth realised that she had spoken too freely. There was a dreadful silence; Rose's eyes filled with horror. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she spoke. Her voice was cold and brittle. "You never mentioned Cal before, Mother. And here I was thinking it was to be just you and me." Ruth laughed nervously. "Well, darling, surely you realised... we could never support our lifestyle without..." Rose's icy look silenced Ruth momentarily, and she took a second to regain her composure. She gazed steadily at Rose. "Nothing has changed, Rose. You are still my daughter, our position is exactly the same as it was a week ago. Except that this time you will not defy me."

Jack paused, not knowing where he was. _Carpathia_ had docked less than an hour ago and already he was lost. New York seemed to close in around him as he stared at the meaningless street signs. He had no idea where he was. "Damn," he muttered to himself. It was raining heavily now, and all he wanted was some shelter, however basic it was. Somewhere around here was a boarding house where he had stayed long ago, when he first headed out to Europe. It seemed appropriate to return there now, yet try as he might he couldn't find it. 

He turned a corner and noticed a building with a large crowd gathered in front of it. Straining his eyes, he could just make out the sign that proclaimed the building to be the offices of the White Star Line. The crowds had gathered to anxiously scan the lists of survivors as they were posted in the front windows. Every now and then a wail of despair, or a cry of joy would rise from the crowd as new lists were posted. 

Jack fought the urge to go and look, to join the crowds and search anxiously for the name 'Dewitt Bukater.' But to do so would bring the final truth to light, to end all hope when the name he searched for wasn't there. He didn't think he could cope with that right now, and instead turned his back on the building, walking ahead into the biting wind.

The wind became harsher, and the rain colder, but eventually Jack found a place to stay. It was dark and gloomy, but it had a roof that kept out the rain, and charged only twenty cents for the night's accommodations. Wearily, Jack sunk into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of Rose. It wasn't unusual for him to dream of Rose; every night for a week he had been visited by visions of her hand reaching vainly through the blackness for his. But this time, she seemed closer, more earthly somehow. Instead of appearing as a ghostly apparition, this new Rose was a very real person who seemed to be in trouble. She was crying, yet try as he might, Jack couldn't reach her to find out what was wrong, and to comfort her. Somehow, these dreams disturbed him even more than the old ones although he couldn't grasp why. All he knew was that, wherever Rose was, he didn't think she was happy. 

Jack lay back in bed, tears streaming down his face. "Oh Rose," he whispered to himself. "Wherever you are, I'm so sorry. I love you. I only wish I'd been able to tell you that." In the darkness, Jack buried his head in his pillow to stifle his sobs and shut out the lonely night.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter 6 

A Second Chance Chapter 6

One Week Later

The sun was struggling to break through the late April clouds, and Jack shivered, pulling his thin coat closer to him. He'd wandered New York for the past week, drawing pictures, looking for work, a place to live- generally trying to fill his days with ordinariness, to force himself back into his steady rhythm of work and travel, meeting friends, drawing as often as he could. But no matter how much he tried to force himself back into his old life, his heart wasn't in it. Painful memories haunted him at every turn, and he felt alone, out of place in this huge city, and wished only to see a familiar face in the crowds. After a week, he knew that the only way he might get his life back in any sort of order was to return home, start again and hope that some day he could wake up in the morning happy to start a new day.

Jack glanced down at the battered wallet he clutched. It had once belonged to his father, and had accompanied Jack on many adventures, although it wasn't usually as full as it was right now. Surprisingly, he'd made a little money through his drawings; perhaps New Yorkers were more generous than Californian holidaymakers. He had even gathered enough for a third class train ticket back to Chippewa Falls, and it was that which brought him to this windswept platform. 

A small piece of paper protruded from the wallet and, as he waited, Jack sat down on a bench and pulled it out to study it again. He knew it was the best thing he'd ever drawn, or was ever likely to draw, and he treasured it already. Drawn from memory, it showed Rose that night at the bow, just as he remembered her- the wind sweeping her hair back and a slight smile playing across her lips. As he gazed at her image, captured forever by his hands, the emotions of that night came flooding back, until Jack could hardly stand it anymore. Roughly, he shoved the paper back in the wallet, placing both with his bags by his feet.

After what seemed like hours, the train's shrill whistle broke the morning air and the fresh blue sky was stained with billowing smoke. Jack jumped up, feigning energy that he didn't feel, and went to gather his belongings; a rucksack with a few clothes, his portfolio and art supplies... not a lot to show for his twenty years, he mused.

As the train slowed down, Jack was suddenly paralysed with indecision. "What the heck are you doing, Jack Dawson?" he thought to himself. "Returning to a place that holds nothing but sad memories." He suddenly realised that he had made no plans- had no job, nowhere to stay, no means of putting food on his table each night. Nothing. He was merely wandering, aimlessly trying to run away from each new set of bad memories. He'd been doing it all his life.

Still... where else was there to go? There didn't seem to be much point in trying to run away from his memories any more- these days they seemed to follow him. At least in Chippewa Falls there were friends to greet him, the hope of being able to build a new life. He shrugged fatalistically, and went to board the train. As he stepped across the door, he stopped again, abruptly. He was gripped by the strangest feeling, and felt himself almost physically pulled back, compelled not to board the train. Without warning, Rose's voice filled his head, just as it had sounded that day at the bow- uncertain, hesitant, yet hopeful and filled with unspoken promises. "Hello, Jack. I changed my mind."

Jack spun around violently, almost losing his footing. His heart filled foolishly with hope- the voice had sounded so real. Behind him, the platform was empty, and his eyes took in nothing but an old newspaper swirling in the wind. Irritated at himself for giving in to his heart's yearnings on the slightest pretext , Jack turned his back firmly on the platform, slamming the train door behind him. He stood by the door as the city skyline shrank from view, gazing out the window. New York held nothing for him now.

* * *

The elegant, chauffeured motor car pulled up a few feet outside the main terminal, looking oddly out of place amongst the dirt and grime of a busy station. As Ruth and Cal alighted, followed reluctantly by Rose, a train bustled by noisily, slowly, blowing its whistle as it gathered speed. Rose watched it wistfully, wondering where it could be going and wishing she could be on board. As Rose gazed after the train, she noticed a young man, tall with blonde hair, standing by the doorway and gazing out the window. His back was to her, his eyes no doubt fixed on the horizon. Where was he going? Was his head full of dreams and excitement as he gazed out the window? Watching him for only a few seconds, Rose thought not. Like her, his shoulders seemed to slump just a little, and he carried the same world weary air that she recognised in herself these days. Despite this, Rose envied him his freedom. "Imagine," she thought, "how wonderful it must be to jump on the first train that comes along, just to see where it takes you." She felt almost giddy at the idea of such glorious freedom. Again she thought of Jack; in another world, they might have been the ones setting out on this journey, filled with plans and dreams.

But, harsh reality has a habit of intruding on even the most pleasant daydreams,and Ruth's shrill voice yet again brought Rose back to earth. "Come along," she snapped, already in a bad mood. "The train leaves in ten minutes. We don't want to be any later than we already are." With that, she shot a look at Cal, who she no doubt held responsible. 

Making their way towards the platform, Rose unwilling trailed Ruth, making sure that she kept at least a few feet away. She was sick of hearing the woman complain and gripe- she had been listening to it for the past week, and Rose was sure she had taken all that she could stand. Even from a distance, Rose could hear little snippets of Ruth's latest tirade. Something to do with the disgrace of travelling by rail to Philedelphia, and a complaint about how squalid and unkempt the station was. 

As if to prove Ruth's point, an old newspaper swirled in the wind, plastering itself to Rose's face. As she grabbed the flapping piece of paper, the headline caught her eye: Titanic Sinks. Rose sighed deeply, wondering if the nightmare would ever end, if the reminders would ever go away.

Idly, Rose glanced up; before her was a noticeboard listing the most recent departures. With nothing else to do, Rose looked closer, and gasped when she saw the destination of the train that had been pulling out just as they arrived. There it was, in black and white- Chippewa Falls.

Rose felt her legs grow weak, and sat down heavily on the nearest bench. First the newspaper, now this- everywhere she turned there were reminders. Rose leaned her head in her hands, wanting to shut it all out; her mother, still complaining, Cal, who was attempting to terrorise a young, hapless porter, the sheer loneliness and desolation of this station, filled with people heading of to family, to friends, to destinations where they would be welcomed.

As she stared at the ground in despair, something caught Rose's eye. It was a wallet, well battered yet quite full of money. Automatically, Rose reached for it. Someone would be searching for it-perhaps it contained an address, or there was a lost property desk where it could be handed in? 

Rose flipped the wallet open, wondering who it could belong to. As she held it, the wind grasped hold of a piece of paper that had been tucked inside, swirling it around until it landed in her lap. Gazing at it blindly for a few seconds, Rose gasped audibly as her eyes drank in the picture. It was a charcoal drawing, beautifully rendered, but that wasn't why Rose's heart race with surprise. The picture was of her; not merely of a woman who through chance bore some resemblance to her, but it was her- standing on the bow that night on the Titanic. In the corner were the familiar initials: JD. 


	7. Chapter Seven

A Second Chance Chapter 7 

Rose's mind spun with the possibilities. How... how could this be true? Glancing down wildly at the paper in her hands again, she could scarcely believe that this was happening; her dreams and prayers answered so unexpectedly. Hugging her arms closer to her to shut out the cold and biting wind, Rose felt her heart fill with hope for the first time since the sinking as a slightly hysterical grin spread across her face. Suddenly filled with energy, Rose jumped up, spilling the contents of Jack's wallet across the platform. The wind scattered coins, notes and bits and pieces across the pavement, and as she stooped to gather them up, Rose felt a crazy urge to scream with joy and cry all at the same time. He was alive. All their hopes and dreams, all the things she had thought could never be were suddenly a part of her future... their future. All she had to do was to jump on the next train to Chippewa Falls and all of this.. Mother, Cal, Philadelphia... all of it.. would be reduced to a distant memory. She would be with Jack again... feel his arms around her, hear his voice, be granted a second chance to tell him everything she had never thought to say before. Rose felt like dancing as she felt her grief and worry float away. 

As her mind continued to race, Rose realised that she must force herself to think rationally. She couldn't allow herself to believe this blindly, to clutch onto hope only to have it snatched away again. Everything that had happened since she had stepped foot on Carpathia had told her that Jack could not have survived. She had seen him disappear into the darkness of the water. Alice had searched Carpathia and nobody had heard of a Jack Dawson, much less seen him or talked to him. Could this crumpled piece of paper really change all those facts so easily? She had to be sure before she allowed her joy to take over. 

Rose took a deep, shuddery breath. Everything that had happened in the past week swam in her head. It was all too much to take in, to cope with. Rose felt suddenly dizzy, and clutched the edge of the bench she sat on. She gazed disbelievingly at the picture again. It was her. Although Rose forced herself to looked closely for evidence that she was dreaming, that this was merely a manifestation of all that she had longed for the past week, no matter how critically she looked at the charcoal image, she knew that this was her. It wasn't merely the curly hair blowing in the wind, the clothing, the setting on Titanic's bow that convinced her. The artist had captured her soul. Just gazing at it, Rose felt the mixture of excitement, hope and fear that had gripped her as she stepped towards the bow flooding over her again. Holding it a little closer, Rose noticed some more writing in the corner: a date. April 18, 1912.

Rose closed her eyes slowly, letting the reality swim around her. The picture she held could only have been drawn by one person. He was alive, out there somewhere.. the only question was where. Glancing up at the train timetable again, Rose saw the words in black and white: Chippewa Falls.

As she gazed down at the drawing, Rose heard footsteps approaching. Instinctively, she drew the picture closer, glancing up to see Cal watching her, a wary expression lurking in the corners of his eyes. Rose studied him with trepidation: what could he possibly be thinking to cause that expression to flit across his face. Her heart was suddenly filled with irrational fears. Had he seen the drawing? Had her joy been too obvious? Surely he couldn't have guessed the truth?

Rose smiled nervously at him, and he returned the gesture typically, smiling stiffly, a smile that held no real warmth. Her reached out his hand, commandingly, expecting her to share the paper that she still clutched in her hand. "What have you got there?" he asked idly, his voice conveying bored curiosity.

The smile faded from Rose's face. "Nothing!" she cried nervously, speaking far too hastily. "I mean" she stumbled on "nothing important... just something I... nothing you'd be interested in!" Her words fell over each other in a desperate attempt to end Cal's curiosity. She laughed nervously, and stood, tucking the drawing away in a pretence of tidying away her belongings.

The slightest shadow of a scowl crossed Cal's face, his eyes narrow with suspicion. Rose was convinced that he hadn't believed her weak attempts to avert the question, but was granted a reprieve as a noisy train bustled through the station, blowing its whistle and spreading sooty smoke through the air. Grasping the opportunity, Rose turned her back on Cal and hurried across the platform to where her mother sat stiffly, still looking singularly unimpressed at the world in general. 

"Mother!" Ruth looked up, surprised at the harshness of her daughter's tone. "I believe I shall go and sit in the waiting room for a while." Rose wrinkled her nose, imitating her mother's most common gesture of disdain." I don't see why we should sit out here in the cold all this time." she explained, praying that her mother wouldn't decide to accompany her.

Ruth shrugged her shoulders, in too much of a bad temper to be bothered following her. "Very well," she answered shortly. "I suppose it will be up to me to see that our belongings are safely boarded... heavens knows you can't leave it up to the staff here..." she rolled her eyes, evidently gearing up for another argument. Before she could begin, Rose smiled weakly, and turned to walk away.

The waiting room was on the other side of the platform, far enough away for neither Cal nor Ruth to really be able to see what she was doing, or where she was going. Rose quickened her step- by the time they realised, she thought feverishly, it would be too late. She would be gone. 

* * *

Cal watched Rose's retreating figure carefully. He prided himself on his ability to spot a lie, and at this second he was utterly sure that Rose was hiding something from him. What on earth was on that piece of paper? The question burned in Cal's mind, as he turned the facts over and over in his head. What could she know that could cause such secrecy? There wasn't much. In fact, Cal mused, the only time he could remember that was comparable was on the Titanic, when she had first met that... steerage swine. His mouth twisted into a humourless smile as he remembered how she had defied him, going to a party below decks... he had discovered her that time, he remembered with satisfaction, and this would be no different.

At his feet, Cal noticed a scrap of paper blowing in the wind. Next to it lay a few gold coins lying on the dirty platform. He bent to pick them up, wondering who could have been so careless. Pocketing the coins, Cal turned his attention towards the paper... he now realised it was a photograph. Looking at it closely, the young man looked vaguely familiar, and he struggled to place his identity. Flipping the photograph over, he noticed faded writing on the back, and straining his eyes, could make out that it was a name and address, and suddenly he realised where he had seen the face before... Jack Dawson.. Herald Street, Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. It was an identity card, the type one might have tucked away, forgotten, in a wallet.

A gasp escaped from Cal's lips, his eyes widening with surprise. Of course, he reminded himself, it could be nothing... merely a memento that Rose had carried with her from Titanic. But, remembering the expression on Rose's face earlier, Cal thought not. With a grim smile, he tucked the photograph into his coat pocket, and, keeping his distance so that she wouldn't spot him, followed Rose as she hurried across the platform.

* * *

Jack sat almost huddled in a corner as the train raced through the open countryside. He was half asleep when, through the beginnings of a dream he heard a voice calling his name. "Dawson! It is you after all!"

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, still unsure if the voice came from reality or his dreams. Sleepily he looked around the carriage, his tired eyes finally focussing on a young man enthusiastically calling his name. Around 20 years old, with thick, curly black hair that just touched his collar, the man was dressed much as he was... faded, slightly dirty clothing: clothing made for travelling and working that had seen many a better day. The man's voice was full of excitement, he sounded almost like a little boy on Christmas Day, and his dark eyes danced as he again called Jack's name. "Dawson.. come on, don't tell me you don't remember me!" he cried in a teasing tone, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. "Your oldest friend in the whole world!" 

Taking charge of the situation, the man sat himself down heavily in the seat next to Jack, his dirty rucksack landing on the floor with a heavy thump. His eyes held a great deal of amusement as he thrust his hand toward Jack. "Peter Townsend." he announced triumphantly, watching recognition dawn on Jack's face.

Jack's eyes widened. "Pete!" he gasped incredulously. "It must have been years since I saw you last!" Peter grinned easily. "Yep. Reckon it must be nearly five years since you hightailed it out of Chippewa Falls. Not much has changed there in that time either, to tell the truth." He laughed easily. "So, whatcha you been doing with yourself all this time?"

A shadow crossed Jack's face, not unnoticed by Peter. "Oh, this an' that" he answered uneasily. "I've been to a lot of great places... you know, working my way from place to place... it's amazing what you can see..." Jack's voice trailed of as he thought how ridiculous he sounded. He hadn't seen his friend in five years, and this was the best he could offer? Was he going to make an art form of talking whilst revealing nothing? Mentally shrugging his shoulders, Jack decided that he didn't care. Any more meaningful discussion could lead to topics that he just didn't want to talk about right now.

Pete elbowed Jack playfully, determined not to let his friend of the hook quite so easily. "I think you're hiding something from me, Jack," he chuckled. "What is it- you got a lady friend tucked away somewhere that you're not telling me about?" Peter's sharp eyes picked up the pained look that flashed across his friend's face. "I've got it, haven't I" Pete cried triumphantly. "So, who is she?" he asked curiously, failing to notice the change in his friend's expression. "She's not here with you?" Pete's face suddenly adopted an expression of sympathy. "Is she giving you a hard time, Jack? Dreadful, aren't they" he chuckled. "Come on, you can tell me I'm sure I can help."

Jack's eyes hardened as it gazed at his friend with sudden dislike. His voice grew cold. "My problems are none of your concern." Jack snapped suddenly "and I doubt very much that you'd understand in the slightest. let alone be able to help."

Peter watched his friend carefully, shocked at his reaction to his playful teasing. "I'm really sorry, Jack. I didn't mean... well, I didn't intend any harm. I was just kidding.. I'm sorry." Pete looked a little flustered, anxious to make amends. He was at a complete loss to pinpoint what he had said that was so wrong, but obviously he had touched a nerve. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his rucksack, offering one to Jack. "Truce?" he asked ruefully.

Jack shrugged, taking the proffered cigarette. "Sure'" he replied, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. He couldn't afford to have this kind of reaction to even the most casual of questions. "So," he continued, trying to lighten the mood a little, "What's life like in the old Chippewa Falls these days. It's been a while... I haven't even sorted out somewhere to stay yet," he laughed uncomfortably. 

Pete's eyes lit up. "Well, that's no problem at all" he cried. "You can stay with me! I mean, I was gonna head out again in a few months... you know, see a little more of the world. But in the meantime..." he shrugged apologetically "at least it's a place to sleep at night, right. And you can always come along... when I go... " he trailed off again.

Jack looked at his friend uneasily. The last few minutes had let him know exactly how difficult this was going to be, how much he had changed. He gazed at Pete again. Had they really been such good friends before? Now he seemed loud and uncouth, always ready with a quick answer, never able to take anything seriously. He could only imagine what Rose would have thought... firmly, Jack told himself to stop thinking like this. It was all irrelevant anyway. Rose was dead. Maybe if he repeated those words a million times they might start to have more meaning. And, Jack reasoned, he was only hours away from arriving in Wisconsin- he had to find somewhere to stay. Perhaps just for a little while... until he figured out something better. "Okay" he sighed. "Thanks," he added, somewhat reluctantly. As the train sped on towards his old home, Jack couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, he'd made a mistake.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight 

Jack trailed Peter down the dusty driveway reluctantly. He was tired, thirsty and the dust and grime of the trip clung to him like a dirty curtain.

"Come on!" Peter exclaimed, full of the excitement of returning home and not seeming to notice Jack's exhaustion. "Don't be so damn depressing- what's got into you, Dawson! You used to have a bit of life about you." He gazed at Jack scornfully, adjusting the heavy backpack on his shoulders. " Look at you- dragging your feet as though you had the worries of the world resting on your shoulders."

The scowl on Pete's face reminded Jack of how quickly his friend's temper could change. 

"Sorry," he muttered. "I guess I'm just a little tired from the trip." 

Quickening his step, he bridged the gap between them as Pete threw the sturdy front door open. "Mother!" he cried, as an anxious looking woman hurried down the stairs. Her clothes were faded mottled grey, and her face drained of colour- a legacy of a hard life in a small town, with too little money and too many worries. Her hair, drawn back tightly in a bun, was the same colour as Peter's, but abundantly streaked with grey. Despite all this, her dark eyes glittered and danced as she raced down the stairs.

"Petey!" She didn't attempt to hide her delight as she threw her arms around his broad shoulders. Jack stood awkwardly at the door, unsure of his place in this scene. These kind of family situations always made him feel uncomfortable, a jolting reminder that he had no one to welcome him home with delight. He felt a lump rising dangerously in his throat as Mrs. Townsend's eyes drifted towards him. Apologetically, Peter interjected "I sort of invited Jack to stay for a while," he explained. "You remember Jack, don't you?"

The initial look of bewilderment in the woman's eyes faded slowly, to be replaced by amazement. 

"Jack!" she cried "is that really you? Have you come back to us after all this time?"

"Guess so, Mrs. Townsend" Jack replied lightly, shrugging his shoulders casually in an uncomfortable attempt to convey just how carefree he was. A wandering spirit- that was how he had always defined himself and right now it was all he had to cling to. His heart was telling him a different story, however. Already, he was beginning to wish that he hadn't returned. Nothing had changed here; nothing at all. The same shops lining the main street, the same curious stares from the townspeople, even the room he stood in was just as he recalled. It had been five years and the only thing that seemed altered in any way was his own feelings. He had thought that the familiarity might be comforting, but now that he stood amongst it, he felt uneasy. The memories were flooding back, and he realised that the small town friendliness that the town was renowned for was only serving to remind him how alone he was. 

"Oh Jack!" she admonished him. "We'll have none of the 'Mrs.' business any more. Why look at you!" she cried. "You're all grown up now. Call me Violet." Jack smiled weakly at her, her voice barely registering in his mind. Lost in his thoughts, Jack barely noticed the light footsteps on the staircase as a young woman made her way down. 

"Why, Eliza." As Eliza spoke, the surprise was clear. "I didn't realise you were home." The girl smiled a cold smile, rolling her eyes with scarcely disguised derision. "Honestly, Mother, I told you not an hour ago that I would be home tonight. And since when were my movements of such particular interest to you?" she added sharply. Crushed by her daughter's sharp rebuke, Violet suddenly seemed to remember Jack's presence. Turning to him, she continued smoothly "Jack-I'm not sure if you would remember our daughter, Eliza. She was away at school, of course, when you were last here." 

Jack glanced over her shoulder, and gasped with surprise. He remembered Eliza from his childhood.. a chubby child with a penchant for chewing her fingernails feverishly. But there was little evidence of that now. Although Jack knew she could only be nineteen, she looked years older, and was obviously proud of the impression she created. Her long curly hair hung down her back, and her yellow dress managed to look elegant despite its simplicity. Although her smile was friendly, there was a steely determination about her eyes. "Why, Jack," she trilled "How nice to see you again. Why," she giggled "It must have been years! We shall have to spend some time catching up!" Despite her innocently girlish tone, her eyes met Jack's meaningfully, transforming her casual words into an invitation to something more.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable in her presence, Jack returned her gaze warily. He prided himself on his ability to read people and he sensed something about Eliza that made him uneasy. There was a certain quality about her that seemed false. Although she smiled at him, her mouth was set in a hard line, and he sensed a spiteful nature that lurked just below the surface. Jack guessed that she was a girl accustomed to getting her own way. "Sure" he replied noncommitedly "But not right now.. I'm kind of tired" he offered by way of explanation.

"Oh of course!" Pete's mother cried. "How thoughtless of me- come along, we'll get you settled." She bustled of down the hall carrying Jack's few belongings. As Jack followed her, he felt Eliza's eyes upon him. She smiled again, staring straight at him and twirling a strand of hair absent mindedly around her fingers. "I'll be just down the hall, Jack.. if you need anything." she added meaningfully. 

Jack spoke carefully, trying to hide the rage that was building inside him. "I don't think that will be necessary, Eliza," he replied in measured tones. "Thanks anyway." As he headed down the hall, he could feel his hands trembling with anger. Who did she think she was? He had barely been in the house ten minutes, and she was making her intentions obvious. Again he was reminded of his initial unease at staying in this house, and vowed to keep a safe distance from Eliza Townsend whenever possible. Although, Jack mused, remembering the determination in the girl's eyes, that may not be as easy as he would wish.

* * *

The small waiting room was dank and dark, and as far as Rose could see, empty apart from a bored looking clerk manning the ticket office. Nervously, she glanced behind her, hoping that nobody had followed her. A quick glance around the door revealed nobody, and she felt relief flood her body. Perhaps this was really going to work, she thought, her heart quickening. Taking a deep breath, she stepped towards the booking office, trying to compose herself. It was almost too much to bear; in mere minutes her whole life had spun around, and she knew that once this decision was made, there was no turning back.

The man behind the counter looked up in surprise as he heard her footsteps approaching. He snapped the book he was reading shut, glancing down at it reluctantly as though he regretted the intrusion. Gazing at Rose curiously, he ran his fingers through his greasy hair, pondering what she could be doing here. It certainly wasn't usual for well bred young ladies to travel alone. "Well, missy" he drawled rudely. "What can I do for you?"

Rose looked at him nervously, glancing over her shoulder once more. "Well," she began hesitantly "I was wondering... hoping... that you might be able to tell me when the next train passes through Chippewa Falls?" The words came out in a rush as she tried to hide the excitement in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for this insipid man to remember her too clearly when Cal and Ruth inevitably arrived looking for her.

"Chippewa Falls, huh? That'd be in Wisconsin then, Missy?" he inquired, flipping through a large timetable. "Well, it appears you have quite a wait- next train doesn't leave for nigh on a week and a half." With that he slammed the timetable shut and picked up his book again. Glancing in Rose's direction, he added "Will that be all, then?"

Rose felt the disappointment echo through her heart, but firmly told herself not to let it bother her. An hour ago, she hadn't known that Jack was alive. Certainly she could wait another week. "No," she spoke faintly. "That will be fine." And, scarcely knowing where she was going, she picked up her bags and walked out of the station.

Standing alone in the street, Rose felt an uncharacteristic giggle escape her lips. Suddenly the whole situation struck her as wonderfully absurd. Here she was, alone in a big city with only the change in her purse and no idea where she was going. "Jack would be proud of me," she thought delightedly. She set of down the street, her light travel bag balanced under her arm. There didn't seem any particular place to go, so she kept wandering until a notice caught her eye. "Room to rent." 

Rose stood on the street, studying the sign oblivious to the stairs of passers by. Eventually, she shrugged her shoulders fatalistically. "Why not," she murmured. "After all, it's only for a week," she thought as she headed up the stairs, an excited smile on her face.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine 

The morning was just coming to life. Outside, Jack could hear the raised voices of his neighbours, and the cheerful cries of their two small children mingled with a dog's bark. However, while the boisterous bustle of everyday life continued around him, Jack had no desire to join it this morning. Instead, he lay alone in his room, gazing at the dirty ceiling. His eyes idly took in a crack that was beginning to snake its way across the plaster. The weeks since his return had passed in an instant, his days filled with a million small diversions. Searching for work in a small town, even his home town, wasn't easy, and it seemed that everywhere he turned there were old friends waiting. He didn't seem to be able to walk down a street without hearing a voice cry out his name, and Jack suddenly felt weary just thinking about it. He had always cherished his freedom, and again, he wondered if his return had been a mistake. He didn't feel like the person who had been when he had left here so many years ago, and he wondered if he would ever fit in again; or if he ever had at all. By some instinct possessed only by those living in a small town, everybody seemed to recognise the sadness that haunted his face; no one was in any doubt that Jack Dawson had returned because he had seen trouble in his life. The constant sympathy and unspoken willingness to 'help' was beginning to grate on his nerves. 

The room was very quiet, and he enjoyed the rare solitude, although it was a little frightening. Suddenly, he was alone with his thoughts, free to follow whatever path they took him. At least since returning home, he'd been to busy and distracted to allow his despair to take over. He realised with a shock that he had been blocking out reality, immersing himself in a million meaningless tasks just in an effort to forget. He had thought he was coping, but now, with just a moment alone all his pain once again rose to the surface.

Opening his eyes wide to hold back the tears he suddenly felt comforted by the quiet and peace of early morning. He felt close to Rose again suddenly, and for a fleeting moment, wondered if somewhere, somehow, she might be thinking the same thoughts. Despite his best efforts, a tear silently slipped down his face as he desperately hoped that, wherever she was, she was happy. "You deserve that, at least." Jack whispered silently to himself. Somehow, Jack was sure she had heard his silent wish.

An impatient rap on the door shattered his dreams. Rose's presence seemed to linger just a second longer, before the spell was broken by Eliza's high pitched whine.

"Jack!" she cried "I know you're awake in there. Now hurry up and open this door. I need to talk to you." When Jack failed to respond, she continued petulantly. " It's important!" Jack could almost picture her throwing back her hair with an irritated flourish.

Jacked sighed wearily as he trudged to the door. He would get no peace until he dealt with her problem, , but he resented the interruption. Eliza had been nothing but trouble from the first, just as every instinct Jack possessed had warned him she would be. Unable to take no for an answer, she had latched onto Jack determinedly, and was seldom willing to let him out of her sight. Jack had overheard the giggled conversations with her friends, knew that she had described him as ' a catch.' "I'm determined to make him mine," she had laughed with friends, only half joking. "And you know that when I'm determined it's only a matter of time until I get what I want!" Flinging the door open angrily, the expression on his face was one of contempt. "What do you want, Eliza!" he cried sharply.

Even Eliza seemed a little taken aback by the angry glint in his eyes but, undaunted, she raised her eyebrows in an attempt to look seductive, and glanced at Jack out of the corner of her eyes. He merely sighed deeply, entirely sick of her posing .

"My, my" she trilled. "didn't we get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Mr. Dawson." She continued with a hint of ice in her voice. "May I remind you that you are a guest in this house-for now, at least" she added meaningly. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she glared at Jack with a look of triumph in her eyes.

The hint was not lost on Jack. No matter how obnoxious Eliza was, he was dependent on the Townsend's hospitality for the time being. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, and grasping the door frame for support, his voice had a defeated tone to it as he spoke through clenched teeth. "All right, Eliza. What on earth could be so important?"

Eliza giggled playfully, and for a moment Jack thought she was going to attempt a little ballet twirl, she seemed so girlish and innocent again . Jack marvelled at her ability to switch face at will. One minute cold and malevolent, her pretty face now bore nothing but a sweet, genuine smile. She leaned a little closer to Jack, as if inviting him into her confidence. Instinctively, he drew back. He couldn't help it- every time she moved closer, Rose's face swam before his eyes again, and he was filled with an unreasonable sense of guilt. Even though he wasn't the slightest bit interested in Eliza, he felt the shame of betraying Rose just by being in the same room, just by putting up with her flirting without telling her firmly that there could never be anything between them. As he pulled away, he caught the quick flash of anger that coursed through Eliza's blue eyes.

Pretending not to notice, Eliza spoke slowly. "Well..." she began coyly, feigning shyness as she stared down at the floor. "I was thinking about the ball at the Mason's house tonight." Jack breathed in sharply, not at all liking the direction this conversation was taking. Catching the look in his eyes, Eliza's voice rose defensively. "You practically promised you'd escort me, it's the proper thing to do as a guest in this house' she cried, her face suddenly flushed with anger.

"What!!" Jack cried in a sudden burst of anger. "I promised nothing at all! And believe me, I have no intention of escorting you or anyone else to the Mason's ball! Especially not you! I wouldn't go if..if.." Jack searched helplessly for a suitably crushing retort. "I wouldn't go if you paid me!!" he finished lamely, his unconvincing words betrayed by the anger in his voice.

An expression of horrified shock crossed Eliza's face, her cheeks flushing red with anger. Jack wondered briefly how many people had ever had the courage to turn her down before, let alone in anger. She seemed shocked into silence for a minute, but before Jack could move, her fury took centre stage once more. Pushing Jack aside rudely, Eliza dashed across the room and sat heavily on the bed, determined that nothing would make her budge. "I'm not moving until you agree," she countered childishly. Folding her arms across her chest defiantly, she held Jack's steady gaze until suddenly, something snapped inside Jack. He was sick of it. Absolutely sick of Eliza and her innuendo, her little games. He wasn't going to listen to it anymore.

"You do what you like," Jack spoke scornfully. "I'm tired of listening to you, trying to keep you happy just because I'm a guest in this house. You're a spoiled little brat." He paused briefly, remembering the last time he had spoken those words. That time, they had been spoken with warmth and affection, his words spilling over themselves as he tried to express his feelings, but now there was nothing but anger in his voice. "It's about time someone showed you what you really are!" he added in a final burst of anger. Turning quickly, he grabbed his sketchbook and portfolio from the dresser and stamped out of the room, slamming the door with a crash that echoed down the hallway.

Left alone in Jack's room, Eliza could still feel the angry tension that filled the air. Her heart raced with rage, and she lashed out helplessly, grabbing a charcoal sketch of Rose that had been tacked up on the wall and spitefully tearing it in two.

Gazing at the pieces of paper as they fluttered to the floor, Eliza studied the fragmented image with interest. Who was she? An old girlfriend, perhaps? Gazing at the loving attention to detail that the drawing revealed, it was clear to Eliza that this girl was special to Jack. Yet he never spoke of her, never saw her; it was a mystery. Eliza, who never allowed an opportunity to slip through her cunning fingers, stored the girl's face away carefully in her memory for the future. After all, she reasoned, you just never knew when a bit of knowledge might be useful.

Eliza's rage was slowly subsiding, replaced with something far more dangerous- a desire for revenge. Slowly, Eliza's hand was drawn to the necklace that rested at her throat. A valuable diamond... suppose it were to suddenly... disappear? Slowly, a wicked grin spread across her lips.

* * *

Alone on the hillside overlooking the town, Jack took a deep breath, trying to put his thoughts back in order, to calm his racing mind. This had always been the place he'd retreated to when he needed to be alone, when he longed for solitude and a chance to put the confusion into perspective. It was where he'd come to cry the tears that no one else had shared following his parents' deaths, the only place where he had felt able to let his anger and loneliness out. He'd often run here as a child to be alone to draw, and it was here that he had dreamed of escaping the small town that had seemed like a prison. Some of his earliest drawings were of the view spread out before him- the tiny church with its steeple that rose defiantly against the sky, the scattered farms and outbuildings, the village school.... Jack smiled as a memory flooded his thoughts, his voice wryly proclaiming "He draws landscapes." For a second, the joy and anticipation of that moment racedthrough him again.

But, now Jack realised, even then his drawings had meant more to him than a mere reproduction of the scenes in front of him. He had always tried to represent the soul of whateverhe drew- it had been evident even in his earliest work. Even now, he could see the character in everything around him- the school buildings, although old and shabby, still looked friendly and inviting, with children's work hanging in the windows. The church stood proudly, evidently the centre of a close knit community. Everything he saw was full of life and meaning.

But it was not the view he drew today. As always these days, his hands were drawn to create a million versions of the same image. Flicking through the sketch pad, Rose's face stared out at him, over and over again, each drawing an attempt to hold onto her memory, an attempt to do what he had never had the chance to do in life: to hold onto each precious moment they had shared, to cherish it and to never let it ecape. "To making it count" he said softly, staring down at Rose's smiling face once more. Each sketch lovingly captured the smallest details, captured, it seemed to Jack, the very essence of what she had been, what he had loved about her. Her eyes shone, and her face lit up as she smiled. Everything about her suggested someone full of excitement, on the verge of a new life. And now it had all been taken away.

Jack bit his life hard, so hard it caused him to gasp in pain. Alone on the empty hillside, there was not a sound except a distant bird's cry. The sound was so desolate and pitiful that he was filled with despair., realising that he had never felt so completely and utterly alone. Pulling fretfully at the grass growing at his feet, Jack twired it unconsciously around his anxious fingers, trying to keep pace with his racing thoughts. He had never imagined himself to be lonely before. Despite his wandering existance, this crushing sense of isolation was new to him. He had never experienced the sheer terror of having no one to turn to that he was so acutely aware of now. The sky seemed so vast and the countryside so huge he almost felt it might swallow him and, feeling the wrenching, tearing emotions that grippped him, Jack suddenly understood why people spoke of their hearts breaking,. More than ever, all Jack wanted was to throw hsi arms around Rose, to bury his face in her hair and never let her go again. He could almost feel her warmth, the beat of her heart against his. The loneliness of this hillside only seemed to bring reality into painfully sharp fous; what he longed for could never be. The finality of this fate rang in Jack's head like a death knell.

* * *

Eliza giggled aloud as she glanced around Jack's room, making sure that nothing was amiss. The necklace was safely tucked away in his top drawer. Clapping her hands with malicious joy, Eliza skipped from the room.

Finding her mother preoccupied in the kitchen, Eliza solemnly adopted an appropriate expression of concern. "Mother!" she cried. "I'm terribly worried. I simply cannot find my diamond pendant anywhere! I'm so worried it may have been stolen." She paused dramatically.

Violet Townsend was well used to Eliza's flair for melodrama, and merely chuckled. "Eliza, please, calm yourself! I'm sure you've just misplaced it."

Taking a deep breath, Eliza lowered her voice to a whisper.

"But Mother, you see, I would naturally have thought that myself, but as I walked down the hall earlier, I noticed Mr Dawson leaving my room. I hate to make accusations, but you know how he often speaks of how little money he has..." Her voice trailed off suggestively.

Violet Townsend's eyes narrowed. She had always liked Jack, and found it hard to imagine him doing such a thing. Still... it had been a long time since she had last seen him, and she had a great mistrust of those who travelled abroad. Who knew what habits he may have picked up, traipsing around from place to place, living like some sort of gypsy? She hesitated, then studied the winsomely trustful expression on her daughter's face.

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to look in his room."

* * *

Jack trudged home, a biting wind blowing his hair uncomfortably in his eyes, but he was too distracted to notice. In one afternoon, it was as though all the grief, all the guilt that he'd forbidden himself to admit to had finally risen to the surface. For the first time he'd felt free to yell, to shout his anger, to cry and speak Rose's name aloud., Yet somehow, he found that only deepened his despair. He found himself truly understanding what he had lost forever, and it was almost more than he could bear.

His feet carried him forward without him realising it, until he found himself at the Townsend's door. It squeaked forebodingly as he pushed it open, and found himself staring into the accusing glares of Violet and Eliza Townsend. It was Violet who spoke first. Glancing at Jack with contempt, her voice was frosty.

"I think it's time you left."   



	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten 

The butterflies began fluttering in Rose's stomach the moment she awoke. As she opened her eyes, she was barely able to suppress the delighted grin creeping across her face. "This is it..." she whispered to herself, glancing at the train ticket by her bedside table. She picked it up, clutching it fiercely, thinking of all it represented, all that it promised. She could barely wait for the day to truly begin.

Unable to contain her excitement much longer, she jumped out of bed and threw open the curtains. The sun was shining brightly; the whole world seemed to be sparkling, mirroring the joy and anticipation Rose felt in her heart. "Of course," Rose thought delightedly. "Today is the beginning... of everything! Why wouldn't it be perfect?" She laughed at her own silliness, still revelling in the excitement and joy that seemed to touch everything today. This feeling of truly being alive was new to Rose, something her cloistered world had never allowed her to experience. Watching the passers by on the street below, Rose suddenly felt like waving to them, to calling good morning as they passed by; to share some of the excitement that was flooding through her. As she reluctantly turned her back on the window to continue her packing, Rose's thoughts raced, her mind miles away. In so many ways, even as she stood here packing to leave, everything that had happened seemed impossible.. like something she had read in a novel, or dreamed up during one of those lonely times when her ability to imagine something better seemed the only salvation. Her sentiments of a few moments before came back to her... the beginning. In so many ways, today was a new beginning, a chance to finally escape the prisons that had bound her mercilessly since childhood. A quick glance around the room confirmed how far she had come. Could she have survived like this a year ago? Alone, with only a few possessions to her name, living in a small room in the poorer parts of New York. She had never possessed the courage, the willpower to finally break free, to survive by herself. At least, not until she had met Jack. 

A soft smile spread across her face as she thought of Jack. Never had she imagined that one person, one chance encounter at the worst moment of her life, could change everything so completely. She had dreamed of escape, of salvation, for so many years, yet it was Jack who had made it possible. He had given her so much, without even realising it; given her the ability to become the person she longed to be. Could she possibly mean as much to him? As this thought crossed her mind, she suddenly remembered the expression on Jack's face that night as she had walked towards him at the bow. The love and delight that lit up his eyes answered every question she would ever have. Gently picking up the portrait he had drawn, she felt suddenly close to him again, and longed to be near him. "Where are you now, Jack?" she wondered. "What are you doing?" A cold shiver ran through her as she suddenly realised that he must think that she was dead. After all, what else would he think? Unconsciously, Rose began to move more quickly, throwing things carelessly in her small bag, anxious to reach Jack as soon as possible.

* * *

Jack's mind was a million miles away as he sat on yet another railway platform. Why were they always the same; no matter where he went, railways stations seemed cold, grey, devoid of life, full of depressing memories and very little promise of anything better. His whole life, it seemed, had been a series of early goodbyes, of running away and searching for new beginnings that never worked out in the end. This was just another.

He was lucky in at least one respect. Pete had been horrified by his sudden departure, and had insisted that he take the money for a train fare. At this point, Jack was beyond pride; at least this way he wouldn't have to worry about catching a free ride; wouldn't have to spend the journey huddled in cold and smelly luggage compartments. Thinking of this reminded him of Fabrizio, of the journeys they had made around Europe. He remembered that poker game in Southampton suddenly. At that moment the power of his good fortune seemed limitless. It seemed anything could happen; that life and everything that it offered was there to be taken, to be enjoyed. Jack smiled grimly at his naivety. To making it count?! That sentiment had brought him nothing but another series of goodbyes and heartbreak. Those days in Europe, before Titanic... even the days he and Rose had spent together.. they all seemed so long ago now, almost as though it had happened to someone else, in a world far removed from this one. In fact, Jack decided, none of that was worth thinking about anymore. What difference did it make to reality, dwelling on happy memories of people who were gone forever. This was his life now, such as it was, he thought despondently.

The train arrived, blowing its whistle insistently. Jack gathered up his things quickly, rushing to join the throngs gathering at the doors. It seemed remarkable that he was headed to California again: a place that he could never have imagined returning to a few months earlier. Yet, still, in many ways it was the perfect place for him. He could find somewhere cheap to live, survive on drawing a couple of portraits a day, and slowly blend into the crowds. There would be no well meaning friends trying to 'cheer him up', no curious eyes and best of all, no memories to haunt him around every corner. Finding a seat, Jack settled down to watch the miles fly away.

* * *

The train had sat at Chippewa Falls station by the time Rose began to compose herself. As they had pulled into the small station, her pent up emotions suddenly overcame her, and she couldn't help it as she started to sob. All the heartbreak, the fear, the loneliness of the past month- all of a sudden, the nightmare was drawing to a close. As she wiped her eyes, a little embarrassed by her outburst, Rose felt a hand gently come to rest on her shoulder. Spinning around in surprise, she found herself staring straight into a pair of warm, brown eyes. The old man's face was kind and friendly looking, a wise face that wrinkled and creased as he smiled at her. "Excuse me, Miss, but are you all right? The train is about to turn around... this was the last stop. Can I be of any assistance with your bags?"

Rose smiled gratefully at him, trying to convey how much she appreciated the gentle interference. Her voice trembled a little as she replied "Thank you, you are very kind. My name is Rose" Smiling back at her, the elderly man tipped his hat gallantly. "And I, young lady, am Joseph," he replied as he picked up one of her small bags. 

Stepping out onto the platform, Rose couldn't help gasping aloud. She was finally here. Looking around at the small town, a smile lit up her face. She could imagine Jack here; could see the lake he had spoken of, could picture him as a small boy playing in the dusty streets, or poring over his choice at the sweet shop next to the station. She hugged herself with joy. She had finally made it. Trying to keep her voice casual, Rose turned to Joseph. "I don't suppose you know Jack Dawson," she asked.

Joseph looked at her quizzically. "Dawson?" he sounded genuinely puzzled. "Haven't been any Dawsons around here in a long time," he said gently "although of course I remember young Jack. Tragic business, that was- what happened to his parents, I mean." Joseph must have noticed Rose's face fall, because he continued "Of course, I've been away these past few months. Perhaps young Jack has returned in the meantime- had enough of his adventuring and decided to settle down perhaps?"

The relief that flooded Rose's face was palpable and Joseph smiled knowingly. "Yes!" she cried, "he would have only returned within the past few weeks, of course you wouldn't know. How silly of me!" She laughed with relief.

"Well, Miss, if you are looking for someone in this town, there's only one person to ask, and that's Mrs. Anderson in the grocers over there." He pointed to a small store on the far side of the road. "Biggest gossip in the town," he continued, winking at Rose. "If there's anything going on, anyone coming or going, Gracie will know all the details."

* * *

The door creaked on its hinges as Rose's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of the store. Slowly, she made out the form of a solid looking woman in a flowered apron, sitting behind the counter. Joseph strode ahead of her, shaking the woman's hand vigorously. "Good morning, Gracie" he cried. "I'd like you to meet Rose. She's looking for young Jack Dawson. I don't suppose you've seen him around these parts lately?"

Gracie's face narrowed into a frown, her lips pursed disapprovingly. "Jack Dawson?" she spoke sourly. "Well, I can't imagine why you would want to find him!" she cried, full of self importance. "The Townsend's were good enough to take him in after he waltzes back here from the good Lord only knows where, and what do you think he did!" Gracie paused for effect. "Why, he stole from them! Right out from under their noses, took young Eliza's diamond necklace, no less!" Gracie Anderson nearly choked on her outrage.

Joseph didn't miss the look of horror and despair that flashed across Rose's face. "Can you tell me where he is now?" he asked insistently, one eye still on Rose. Gracie sniffed. "I can't imagine," she replied. "He left town this morning."

To be continued! 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven 

Joseph's warm brown eyes were filled with concern as he gazed into Rose's distraught face. No tears fell from her eyes, but she shook her head slowly as she numbly mumbled "He couldn't have. Not Jack. I know he couldn't have." Suddenly remembering Joseph's presence for the first time, she clutched his arm, staring into his eyes with an unusual intensity. "Joseph, you know Jack. You know he wouldn't do this."

Realising that no reply was expected, or really necessary, Joseph talk Rose's arm and gently ushered her outside. The day was growing older, and already the twilight was approaching, the shadows becoming longer with ever passing second. Suddenly, Rose realised that after travelling so far, she had forgotten to arrange any accommodation for the night. She had assumed that she would find Jack straight away; that everything would happen to plan. Suddenly overcome by an utter sense of hopelessness, she burst into tears.  "Come on," Joseph spoke calmly, but his tone was warm and comforting.   "Things are never as bad they may seem on the surface. You've had a long day, and a shock. I think you need to rest- things will seem clearer in the morning. I don't suppose you have anywhere to stay?"

Wordlessly, Rose shook her head, biting her lip to stop the tears spilling to the surface again. "Well, then" Joseph continued "I would be delighted if you would stay with my wife and I until you decide what you'd like to do next."

"Oh... Joseph, that's very kind of you.. but I couldn't possibly impose on you like that." Rose stammered. Joseph chuckled ruefully. "Oh, it's no problem. My wife is well known as the hostess of the town. She'd be delighted to see you. In fact, I think she'd be horrified if I didn't invite you to stay with us."

For the first time in what seemed like hours, a genuine smile filled Rose's face. "In that case, I would be delighted to accept your kind invitation." Rose spoke formally, but the mischievous sparkle in her eyes gave her away. Joseph, picking up on her mood, gallantly tipped his hat to her as he shouldered her bag. "Follow me, my lady" he chuckled.

* * *

Rose's shoulders sagged with exhaustion by the time they reached the doorstep of a pretty brick house surrounded by an obviously well-loved garden. Somehow, it seemed the perfect house for Joseph; warm, friendly and welcoming. "Joseph, you have a lovely home." A tired smile spread across Rose's face, her voice barely above a whisper.

Returning the smile, Joseph held the door open for her. "Thank you," he chuckled. "All my wife's doing, I'm afraid, but you are very welcome here."  The house was warm and tidy, filled with everything that makes a house a home. As Rose stepped over the doorstep she felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude and belonging. How kind of these people to take her, a total stranger, into their home and make her feel so welcome. Their hospitality and kindness wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket and for the first time in weeks she remembered how it felt to be safe and secure.

Joseph hurried ahead of Rose, walking purposively to the kitchen. "Elsie! Elsie!" he cried. A kindly looking woman poked her head from behind the door, an expression of fond exasperation flitting across her face as she recognized her husband's excited tone of voice. "What have you done now" she chuckled, well used to his flights of sudden inspiration and generosity.  "I've brought someone home for you to meet,' he replied, ushering Rose forward. "This is Rose," he continued. "She needed a place to stay tonight..." he trailed of, a slightly sheepish grin dancing at the corners of his mouth. 

The smile that spread across Elsie's face was genuine and friendly and directed straight at Rose. Stepping towards her, she hugged her warmly. "You're very welcome in our home, Rose." she said. "Now, why don't we get my husband here to look after you while I finish preparing dinner. Oh, and Joseph," she continued, glancing towards her husband, "Caroline dropped in tonight. She's passing through town with that... " Elsie paused, searching for the right expression "theatre troupe of hers, so I invited her to stay a while. Why don't you introduce her to Rose?"

* * *

"Caroline is our granddaughter," Joseph explained as he lead Rose up the stairs. "She joined some sort of... travelling theatre group" he continued in a bemused tone. "They traipse around the country, performing anywhere they can. Her mother keeps hoping that she'll grow out of it, but I don't know. She always had a rebellious streak, our Carrie. If nothing else, she's following her dreams- and that's the most important thing in life, right Miss Rose?" he chuckled, as he opened the door to  a cheerful room. Furnished in yellow, and with the last of the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, Rose couldn't have imagined anything better, and a lump rose in her throat as she was again reminded of their kindness.

"Now, I'll leave you alone to settle in, if you like. I'll just be downstairs in the sitting room- first door on the right  at the bottom of the stairs. Join us whenever you're ready." With a kind smile, he turned to the door. "Joseph," Rose spoke suddenly, softly. "Thank you so much. If you hadn't come along.." Rose hesitated. "Well, I don't know what I would have done without you," she finished simply.

* * *

Rose stood hesitantly outside the sitting room door, trying to collect her thoughts. Inside, she could hear voices and laughter, but she needed a moment to be alone.  Everything was changing so fast- only this morning she had dreamed that she would be with Jack tonight. Her gratitude to Elsie and Joseph was unending- but it couldn't completely remove the disappointment that flooded her. She smiled sadly at the thought, but somehow she felt calmer now. "You will find him," she promised herself silently. "It just might take a little longer than you expected."

"Rose!" a voice cried behind her, making her jump in surprise. Elsie's kind face looked puzzled. "What are you doing, alone in this cold hallway? Why don't you come and sit with us?" Still startled, Rose smiled weakly at Elsie, her thoughts elsewhere. "Yes, of course, I would love to," she replied vaguely. "I was just.. thinking." Elsie's sharp eyes didn't miss the slightly sad expression which flitted across Rose's face.

The door creaked slightly as Elsie pushed it open, to reveal Joseph in an animated conversation with a tall girl with curly blonde hair. She was waving her hands theatrically, laughing as she recounted a story. "Now, you two," Elsie admonished them fondly. "Do you think you could stop your chattering for a minute so Joseph can introduce Caroline to our guest?"

Joseph laughed warmly as the Caroline turned to Rose, her face animated. "I guess you must be Rose," she said, a smile spreading across her face. "It's great to meet you- Joseph has been telling us a little about you. So, what on this earth brings you to a sleepy little place like Chippewa Falls?" Caroline laughed carelessly.

Rose exchanged a silent glance with Joseph, wordlessly thanking him for not sharing the whole story. "Well," Rose began slowly, framing her words carefully. "I was looking for someone, but it turns out that he isn't here after all." Rose marvelled that such an innocuous explanation could cover so much heartbreak and despair. The last thing Rose intended was to repeat the hurtful accusations she had heard that day, or recount the still painful tale of all that had happened on that cold April night. 

"Looking for someone?!" The knowing smile on Caroline's face was unmistakable. "I would guess that it would be a rather special someone that would bring you all the way to Chippewa Falls. You don't exactly appear to have grown up in these parts." Although the observation was made wryly, Caroline's face was kind, and Rose warmed to her immediately. Smiling shyly, Rose nodded. "Yes, you're right on both counts. I grew up in Philadelphia," she paused, "and Jack- well, he is special enough to travel anywhere. He's.." suddenly realising that she was the centre of an undivided attention, Rose broke off, blushing slightly. "Well, it's just that things are a little... difficult." She glanced down at the sofa, a tear forming in the corner of her eye as suddenly she longed for Jack's presence, longed for him to know that she was alive and well, searching for him. She felt a gentle arm around her shoulder as Elsie gave her a comforting hug. "Really.. it's alright." Rose's voice was stronger now, the moment of sadness having passed. Rose saw the sympathy and understanding in Elsie's eyes and again marvelled that these people could be so kind and caring despite only having known her a few hours. 

Turning to Joseph sitting beside her, Rose searched for a way to change the topic.   Joseph seemed to recognize this, and turned to Caroline. In a casual voice, he said "Caroline, why don't you tell Rose here about your theatre group. She seemed to be very interested by it when I spoke of it earlier." Joseph laughed as Rose's eyes lit up- obviously he had chosen the right topic. "Oh, yes!" she cried, unable to hide her sudden excitement. Joseph was telling me that you are an actress! I've always wanted to act!" she continued, her voice sparkling. "It's been a dream of mine since I was a little girl, to be on stage, to see the audience, hear their applause.." Rose laughed suddenly, aware that Elsie and Joseph each wearing an amused expression as they listened to her. 

Caroline laughed too, glad to see someone else shared her passion for the stage. "Well, what are your plans after you leave here? If you're planning on travelling, you can always tag along with us. We're always on the look out for new people. And it's nothing fancy, you know.. we just perform in local church halls, that kind of thing. That's...If you'd like to..." she stopped, uncertain of the reception her idea might receive. . "It's just that, if you were planning on travelling anyway.. looking, you know.. it might be nice for you to have a little company."

Rose's face was alive with excitement now, her blue eyes sparkling. "Oh, yes! I'd love to.. I mean, if you think I could," she finished shyly. "Where are you travelling to next?"

Caroline considered the question for a minute before replying. "Well... we'll be here for a week or so, but after that I believe that we have a series of shows booked in Santa Monica."


	12. Chapter Twelve

Jack stared through the cloudy bottom of his glass, trying to block out his surroundings. The furnishings of the bar he sat in where scratched and worn, and the room was so gloomy that he felt as though damp was rising from every corner. Absentmindedly, he picked his glass up and swirled its contents around, trying to decide what he could do to fill the rest of the day. A quick glance at the clock on the wall confirmed his worst fears. It was only 11.30 am. Dropping his head as a wave of despair flooded him, Jack sighed deeply. Eleven thirty and already he'd sought refuge in a couple of drinks. Worse still, the day stretched ahead of him, and there were still at least ten hours before he could find refuge in sleep. Lifting his head again, Jack caught a glimpse of his reflection in the windows above the bar. His tired eyes stared back at him, and with a sudden jolt, Jack realised that he looked pathetic. 

This thought was enough to waken him from his misery, and he stepped outside into the sunlight, which was glaring in comparison to the murky gloom of the bar. Seeing the sunlight and the crowds scurrying around, enjoying themselves, drinking up the sunshine, the happy atmosphere and enjoying just being there, Jack cheered up slightly. Who would have thought it would have come to this-back at the Santa Monica pier with a sketch book sticking out of his well worn rucksack. Still, there were worse places he could be, Jack knew, and a rare smile briefly flitted across his face as he made his way towards his usual spot on the pier. 

* * *

Rose and Caroline wandered aimlessly along the beachfront. Despite the warm sun, the wind was strong and cold, blowing Rose's long hair into her eyes. She pushed it back irritably, unable to get into the spirit of the day. Everything around her seemed to suggest that this was a place where people were meant to be happy- the mood was festive, with pony rides on the beach and children squealing with excitement. But, no matter how hard she tried, Rose couldn't share in their carefree happiness. Everything was irritating her, and the empty feeling at the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away.

Rounding a bend in the path, Rose and Caroline found themselves in the middle of a small market. People milled around everywhere, buying the oddest collection of goods- jewellery, clothing, even furniture. A harried looking man dashed past with a broken stool tucked under his arm. Looking browsing through the market stalls set up along the beachfront. Giggling, Caroline picked up a silly hat from a table strewn with moth-eaten clothes. Pulling the ridiculous hat down over one eye, she flung her head back, striking a dramatic pose. A portly woman, presiding over the sad little collection, frowned with great disapproval, but Caroline was totally oblivious to the stares, and unable to hide her joy. "Isn't this great!" she squealed. "I mean, look at us.. here we are, by the beach... no worries, no responsibilities... nothing to do but enjoy ourselves!" Caroline grinned mischievously at the stall holder. "I think I'll take this," she said, as the woman frowned back. Turning to Rose, she dissolved into giggles. "I think it suits me, don't you!" Rose returned her grin weakly as the swirling wind grabbed Caroline's newly purchased hat and spun it through the air wildly. Helpless with laughter, Caroline chased after it, grabbing it triumphantly from the air and placing it firmly on her head. Without pausing to take a breath, she was already moving on, singing the praises of Santa Monica once more. "Look! There's even an amusement park!" Catherine gestured excitedly towards a gigantic wooden roller-coaster. "We have to go there some day!" she cried girlishly. Suddenly, she noticed that her friend didn't share her enthusiasm.

"What's wrong, Rose?" she asked, just a little too brusquely. "You've been depressed since the moment we arrived." Caroline's tone was kind on the surface, but Rose could see the impatience in her eyes, and understood it. If only she could share in Caroline's carefree attitude, just join in and have fun like the rest of the group were doing. But Rose knew that until she found Jack, the worry would always be there. Rose shrugged her shoulders listlessly. "It's nothing, I guess. It's just that.. well.. " Rose's voice trailed of, and her eyes subconsciously scanned the horizon, looking for a familiar face amongst the throngs of people. 

The impatient expression flitted across Caroline's face again, briefly. But the pain in Rose's eyes was too real for her to ignore for long, and she hugged her friend warmly, trying to cheer her up. "Come on, Rose," she implored. "It's not that bad. We've come this far- we'll find him. " 

Rose's eyes filled with tears. "Caroline, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but he could be anywhere. There's no guarantee that I'll find him at all. He could be anywhere in the country.. or he could have decided to go back to Europe.." the panic started to rise in Rose's voice. "Or what if he's been right here all this time and I never realise it, and end up leaving without ever finding him.. " her voice was growing high pitched and her cheeks flushed with anxiety. 

Suddenly, the world seemed very large to Caroline. Rose was right- he really could be anywhere, and there was every chance she would never find him. A cold emptiness gripped her as suddenly Rose's helplessness became clear to her. There was nothing she could do except hope- and yet the regret would be with her forever if she learned too late that he had been here all along. Regret was a feeling that Caroline understood only too well and tears came to Caroline's eyes- she knew what it was to wish too late that you had acted differently when you had the chance. She couldn't allow the same thing to happen to her new friend. 

"Listen, Rose," Caroline began slowly, "A long time ago, I turned my back on someone that I cared for, and lost them forever. I know what it's like to regret the opportunities you've missed, and I don't want you to experience that too. We'll find him. I'll do everything I can to help you, I promise. We'll start tomorrow, okay? We'll look through the records of every hotel and boarding house in the country to find out where he has gone if we have to." 

A small glimmer of hope flitted through Rose's eyes. "Do you really think that will work?" she asked quietly, sounding calmer than she had moments before. 

Feigning a greater sense of hope than she felt, Caroline tried to inject a little optimism into her voice. "Of course it will!" she cried. "He can't hide from me for long!" She forced a smile to her face, knowing that the reality could be very different. "Now come on, let's get going. We need to rehearse for tonight, you know- and I have a surprise for you that might cheer you up!" 

* * *

The sun seemed bright to Jack this morning and he squinted as he tried to concentrate on his drawing. The little girl squirmed and wriggled, and finally burst into tears as she longingly watched her brothers splash in the water. 

Standing up and stretching, Jack admired his work. Whatever else happened, he still felt at peace with a pencil and a sheet of paper in his hands. "All done!" he stated gruffly, smiling with a warmth he didn't feel at the little girl's father.

Eagerly, he snatched the paper from Jack's hands. "This is.. wonderful," he said slowly. "Really, I mean it. It's perfect. Thank you." Jack's smile softened. "No problem," he replied, packing up his equipment. "Any time."

Moving slowly, Jack sat down by the edge of the pier, his legs dangling over the side. In any other circumstances, this would have been pleasant- the sun was shining and he was in one of his favourite places in the world. But now all it seemed to do was remind him of Rose- how he would have loved to have shown this to her, shared it with her. He could imagine how she would have loved it, how she would have revelled in the freedom she could have experienced for the first time in her life. 

Squinting his eyes a little more, something caught his eye down by the waterfront. A girl with flowing blonde hair, chasing something or other as it flapped in the wind. What was it- a hat? It was the movement that had caught his eye, but something else held his attention- the tall red-headed girl standing next to her. Even from a distance, she seemed haunted by an air of overwhelming sadness. An image of Rose the very first time he had seen her flashed before his eyes and, without even realising that he was doing it, Jack leaned forward to see a little better. Suddenly, he was transfixed. The closer he looked, the more the woman reminded him of Rose. He wasn't close enough to see her face, but everything else- the way she proud and slightly aloof way she stood in the crowd, the red hair dancing in the wind.. everything. 

Not quite knowing what he was doing, Jack stood up slowly and, trance like, walked in their direction. Suddenly, he became aware of a voice cutting through his private fog. "Jack! Hey, Jack!" 

Whirling around impatiently, it took Jack a moment to recognise the face in front of him- Christopher, a friend from his past in Santa Monica who had taken it upon himself to look after Jack upon his return. He had been a good friend, but right now Jack felt a sense of urgency he couldn't explain. He wanted to see the red-headed woman up close- if only to reassure himself that the thought that had crossed his mind earlier was absurd. 

"How are you doin', Jack" Chris asked laconically, a warm smile on his face. Jack sometimes felt that Christopher was concerned about him, and usually he appreciated it, but right now he had little time for Chris' attempts to look after him. "Oh, you know, Chris. I'm surviving," Jack replied impatiently, glancing hurriedly over his shoulder. The girl and her friend were still there.

Chris' smile grew broader. "Great! Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join a few of us for dinner tonight. There's that new play at the Playhouse tonight- nothing fancy, just some amateurs' group from Wisconsin." Chris chuckled with amusement.

"Uh.. sure," Jack replied vaguely, not really taking in what Chris had said but anxious to get away nonetheless. Chris looked bemused. "You Okay, Jack? You seem a little distracted." 

"What? Yes, of course, I'm fine. Look, Chris, I gotta run." With that, Jack turned and sprinted down the pier as Chris yelled "I'll see you around seven!"

* * *

Now that he was amongst the crowds, Jack couldn't remember exactly where he'd seen her. The throngs of people closed in around him, disorientating him and making him doubt himself. He spun around, frantically searching for anyone that bore a slight resemblance. Even though he knew he was probably crazy, he knew that he had to set his mind at ease. If he didn't, he might always be haunted by what he thought he had seen. It was hopeless though. No matter where he turned, he saw nobody who resembled the woman he'd seen from the pier. 

* * *

By six that evening, backstage was a mass of nervous activity. The air was punctuated by snatches of song and dialogue, as people rushed frantically to gather their costumes together and put on makeup. In spite of herself, Rose grinned. This was what she had always longed for- to be a part of something like this, to live life as an adventure, doing something that she loved. Caroline's announcement had taken her by surprise at first- one of the girls playing one of the smaller roles had left unexpectedly, and she was to take her place. Rose hugged her arms to her with excitement- after three weeks longing to join the others on stage, she was to finally get her chance. The role was small- three lines in the opening scene, but to Rose the chance to see the audience's eyes upon her was priceless. 

* * *

Chris, Jack and the rest of their group settled down in their seats just moments before the curtain was to go up. The others chatted happily, the easy talk of friends enjoying a night out, but Jack couldn't join them. The incident on the pier ran through his mind over and over, until he began to wonder if he'd even seen it at all. All he'd wanted was a chance to make sure, a chance to avoid spending the rest of his life wondering if it could have been her. Sighing, he gazed down at the program in his hands, wondering what on earth this play was about.

The audience murmured in anticipation as the heavy velvet curtain rustled and opened to reveal a stage lit with a spotlight. Caroline stepped confidently into view.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" she cried theatrically. "It is my pleasure to welcome you all here tonight. Before we begin, I would like to introduce you all to the newest member of our little group, and a fine actress in the making;" Caroline paused for a second, turning towards Rose as she nervously stepped onto the stage. 

Still studying the program in the dim light, Jack glanced up absentmindedly. Suddenly, he froze. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Without realising what he was doing, Jack was out of his chair, staring into Rose's eyes as she stood nervously smiling up on stage. "R- Rose.." he whispered. "Rose, is that really you?" 

Caroline's voice was strong and echoed around the hall as she spoke into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce- Rose Dawson!"

Tears filled Jack's eyes, spilling over and running down his cheeks. For the first time in months, they were tears of joy, mixed with disbelief. Wiping them away with a shaking hand, he didn't notice Chris' anxious voice calling his name, or the vocal annoyance of the couple behind him. Without caring what those around him thought, or even fully realising what he was doing, he turned and ran towards the stage.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen 

Rose squinted against the bright stage lights, trying to see what all the commotion was about. What was going on out there? She could make out a dark shape, standing up in the midst of the crowd, and even from where she stood, she could sense that the crowd seemed distracted, or angry, about something. Sighing deeply, she turned to Caroline, bewildered. Here it was, her one big chance, and someone out there was ruining it for her. How many other things were going to go wrong? Couldn't she enjoy herself for just one minute? "What's going on?" Rose whispered irratably to Caroline, her face flushed with a mixture of frustruation and anger. Caroline just shrugged her shoulders, a frown on her face. 

Suddenly, a flash of anger coursed through Rose. Couldn't whoever it was just sit down and be quiet? Didn't they have any consideration for what she and the other actors on the stage might be feeling? She was nervous enough as it was without all these distractions. Acting on a sudden impulse, Rose grabbed the microphone roughly from Caroline's hands. All her nerves dissapeared as she heard her angry voice ring out across the room. "Excuse me!" The chatter in the audience stopped abruptly, and Rose was suddenly conscious of hundreds of pairs of eyes, gazing at her with curious bemusement. "Excuse me," she continued, feeling a little sheepish. Two spots of red appeared on her cheeks as she realised that everyone in the room was staring at her. Why did she always act like this- rush headstrong into things without thinking, and then regret her actions instantly? "We're about to start. Could everybody please take their seats and..." Suddenly, her voice dissapeared to a whisper as her eyes were drawn to a familiar figure stepping into the dusky light at the front of the stage.

Rose froze in an instant, every word she had been about to utter forgotten. The light wasn't good, but it was just enough to catch Jack's blond hair, and to allow her to see the curious mixture of disbelief, wonder and adoration in his blue eyes. Forgetting where she was, Rose dropped the microphone with a clatter, and a hideous ringing sound echoed loudly around the hall. Suddenly feeling dizzy, she grabbed the curtain for support, her mouth opening to silently whisper the only word that would come to her mind."Jack?"

Rose didn't know how long she stood there, her eyes fixed upon Jack, but suddenly, Rose was aware of Caroline's curious presence. Turning to her friend, Rose managed to forget her swirling emotions and forced a watery smile. Caroline's eyes were very bright and her smile warm as she whispered "Rose- is that who I think it is?" Nodding weakly, it scarcely seemed possible to Rose. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, that's him." Caroline's smile turned into a grin as she hugged her friend ferociously. "I thought so somehow." She paused. "I'm so happy for you, Rose," she spoke solemnly for a moment, before a giggle broke though her serious mood. "But what are you still doing here with me? Go on-go! It's been three months since you saw him last, after all!" Caroline giggled, pushing Rose backstage. Wildly, she looked up, catching Jack's eyes for a moment, and gestured towards the backstage area. This all seemed far too surreal to be true.

* * *

Standing in the dim light at the foot of the stage, Jack felt as though he were in a dream. He'd rushed from his seat without a second thought, and now, here he was, just inches from her and he couldn't move. He felt as though he was glued to the spot where he stood, unable to think, to move, to do anything but stand there and drink in the sight of her. The audience, the bright lights, the other actors on the stage- none of them seemed real, they all seemed to fade into the background as their eyes met, and in one brief second, the pain and heartbreak of the past few months seemed to melt away. 

Suddenly, he saw Rose stumble and grab at the heavy velvet curtains. Instinctively, he moved towards her, moving to help her, his concern for her wellbeing moving to the forefront of his mind, just as it always had. How could that be- after three months, it was as though nothing had ever changed, nothing had ever happened. His feelings for her were still there, as deep and true as ever. The past few months might have never have happened. In an instant he stepped out of his trance as reality came sharply back into focus. She was alive, actually alive and standing here before him. What was he doing just standing here? Without a moment's hesitation, Jack turned and ran towards the backstage area, his heart pounding wildly. How was this even possible? For the first time in his life, Jack felt as though things were moving too fast even for him to keep up with. Just a few minutes earlier he'd been lost in his own despair, and now, suddenly, it seemed his dreams were coming together again. he couldn't hold back the delighted smile spread across his face. 

* * *

Standing alone backstage, Rose told herself to calm down. Yet her heart was racing, everything seemed impossibly wonderful. She felt dizzy withan amazing sense of anticipation that she had never experienced before- her joy seemed to suddenly touch everything around her, and the whole world seemed warm and welcoming where only hours before it had seemed a threatening and lonely place. Alone in the dressing room, Rose whispered Jack's words to herself, grinning broadly. "You never know where life's going to take you." In her feverish excitement, it seemed to Rose that no truer words had ever been spoken. Who would have ever guessed that things would suddenly turn out so perfectly, making a mockery of her despair and anxiety. 

Hearing light footsteps on the stairs, Rose turned quickly, her heart racing with anticipation. Suddenly, she couldn't wait a moment longer. Throwing the door open, she cried his name aloud. "Jack!" The name rang around the empty room, and it seemed like a miracle that after so long, she was able to speak that name aloud again. 

Even in the gloomy darkness of the staircase, Rose could see the light in his eyes as he stood there, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "Rose," he whispered, a note of wonder filling his voice. "Oh, God, Rose, it really is you. I didn't think I'd ever..." a barely perceptible tremor crept into his voice, as Rose moved quickly to close the last remaining space that separated them. Throwing her arms around him, he pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her hair. His heart was racing, and she felt his chest rise and fall slightly as he sobbed quietly, the months of pain and anguish finally over. Holding him tightly, she stroked his hair gently, content just to be near him again. Everything about him seemd a miracle to Rose at that moment, and she buried her face in his chest in the darkness, breathing in the scent of him and feeling his breath against her skin and finally feeling at peace. 

Pulling away slightly, Jack's eyes met Rose's and, holding her gaze, he gently touched her face, his finger tracing a path down her cheek. "Oh, Rose," he whispered. "I didn't think it could really be you. It just.. it just seems too perfect to be true. All these months I've dreamed of this, and now..." his voice trailed of to a whisper as he searched uselessly for words to describe what he was feeling. "I know," Rose replied gently, leaning closer to him again. "I know. But it's over now," she whispered as his lips met hers once again.


End file.
